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<title>I cannot weave by Six_Piece_Chicken_McNobody</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27107839">I cannot weave</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Six_Piece_Chicken_McNobody/pseuds/Six_Piece_Chicken_McNobody'>Six_Piece_Chicken_McNobody</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>f/f drabbles [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Jim Henson's The Dark Crystal Series - J.M. Lee, The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drabble, F/F, Post-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:27:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27107839</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Six_Piece_Chicken_McNobody/pseuds/Six_Piece_Chicken_McNobody</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Onica/Tavra (Dark Crystal)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>f/f drabbles [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1970245</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I cannot weave</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tavra didn’t used to need any help getting lost in Onica’s hair—curls of sun-catching red, coarse with salt, so unlike Tavra’s pin-straight silverblonde. Now, Onica holds Tavra in her palm and lifts her to her shoulder. She crawls up behind Onica’s ear and knits herself into place, every night.</p>
<p>She wishes she were big enough to wrap Onica up, too—in a chrysalis instead of a web. They would share the sacred sleep of unamoths, bound by gossamer and red hair and dreams of the future, and in the morning, when they emerged, perhaps they would have wings again.</p>
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